


Share the Salami

by rivers_bend



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Cock Bondage, Companionable Snark, Consensual Kink, M/M, Monsterfucking, Other, Pet Names, Public Sex, Schmoop, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: in which Venom's kink is pet names and Eddie's kink is Venom





	Share the Salami

Eddie half wakes with a shiver when he rolls over and his hip lands on a cold wet patch of sheet. “Stop drooling on the damn bed,” he murmurs at his symbiote. Then he sniffs. He's had plenty of opportunity to learn the scent of Venom’s, well, everything, in the last few weeks. He's still not sure he could describe any of it. But what his parasitic friend does not smell like is Eddie’s spunk. 

**I am not drooling.** Venom sounds affronted. **You are drooling. Not with your mouth.**

Jesus. It's been twenty years since Eddie had a wet dream. This is what he gets for avoiding slapping the salami while he's got a visitor in his head. 

**I like salami, Eddie. Share the salami. And I am not visiting. I am yours.**

Eddie grabs the chance at a change of subject. "And I'm yours, babe." His new pal likes terms of endearment, and flattery as distraction is second nature to Eddie after years in journalism. 

**Also, you find me endearing.**

Distraction maybe works less well when a guy's in your head with you. "Yeah, yeah." Eddie waves him off and moves a little farther from the wet spot. 

**You do. I find you endearing also, Eddie. Even when you are drooling.**

Trying to be subtle, Eddie wipes the corners of his mouth. "I'm not drooling."

**Not with your mouth.**

Oh right. Shit. He's too tired for this. "Going back to sleep, pal. G'night."

To his surprise, Venom doesn't argue.

**

They haven't seen Mrs. Chen since they ate—since _Venom_ ate—a guy's head right in front of her. Eddie's a little nervous. But he hasn't got anything for dinner at home, and they're walking past, and it's been a good few weeks. What's he gonna do. Avoid her forever? V perks up as soon as he feels Eddie veering toward the door. 

**More brains?** He asks, excitement in his voice. 

"Not more brains. We took care of that problem. We're getting human food."

A feeling of disappointment taps on the back of Eddie's sternum and trickles down into his belly. Being a _we_ is fucking weird. Then Venom gives Eddie a little shove, getting him moving faster toward the door. 

**Yes. Human brains food. I like them best.**

"No! Ven—" Eddie can feel the rumble of his symbiote's amusement and gives up his protest. The longer they spend together, the easier it is to tell when Venom's joking. He still can't always tell right away, though. 

"Eddie!" Mrs. Chen says. Her eyes are a little wild, and her cheeriness is a bit forced, but she takes a step towards him. "Anything you like. On the house." 

"Nah, don't do that." Eddie stops even with her so they're facing across the counter, but he gives her more space than he would have a week ago. "You're done having to give people something for nothing in here." Her smile gets less watery. "Besides. We're celebrating. Got a new job. You're looking at Eddie Brock, journalist, again." 

"That's great, Eddie. No, um…?" She waves a hand that Eddie thinks is probably supposed to encompass turning into a giant, many-toothed vigilante. 

**Journalist _and_ Venom,** Venom says. **Not just journalist.**

Concentrating very very hard on not moving his mouth, Eddie replies, _I know, I know, but not now, hon, okay?_

**Hun. Gry.**

_Of course you are. Shh._

"How've you been?" Eddie asks, still looking at Mrs. Chen, but moving towards the sandwich fridge in the back. 

"It was way less trouble then I expected convincing the police that another gang member came in and chopped off that—" she says something in Mandarin he can't understand— "and took his head as a trophy." 

**We like her. She is a nice lady.**

"She is a nice lady."

"What, Eddie?" Mrs. Chen calls from the front.

"I said you're a very nice lady. Thanks. I, uh—"

"One good turn deserves another," she says. "Don't you think?" 

Eddie grabs roast beef on rye, and a bottle of chocolate milk, and turns back toward the counter. "Thank you. You didn't—I didn't expect you to cover for us." 

Before she can answer, the door opens and three teenage girls walk in, one of them showing something on her phone to her friends. They head to the soda fridge. "Just these, thanks," Eddie says, putting his sandwich and milk on the counter. Something brushes the fingers of his other hand. He looks down, and there's a wisp of black nudging a bag of Ghirardelli chocolate squares at him. "And these," he adds, plucking them from Venom's tendril and putting them with the rest. 

Mrs. Chen rings him up, takes his money, says something about hoping to see him again soon, but he can't really hear her, because from the second he takes the bag, Venom is metaphorically bouncing around inside him like a toddler at a birthday party, chanting, **Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate** , the whole time. 

As soon as they're out in the street, Venom sends out another tendril, trying to get into the plastic bag Mrs. Chen put their dinner in. Eddie slaps it away, hooking the bag over his forearm and going after the chocolate Venom was heading for himself. "Okay, grabby, we'll have some. Don't let it spoil your dinner." 

**Dinner is already spoiled. Dead things in bread.**

None of his symbiote is showing, but Eddie can see the pout as though Venom's face were right in front of him. "No sulking. I got roast beef just for you. I know how you feel about tunafish." 

**That is not food. It's gross mush.**

"Says the guy who eats _brains_." 

**Chocolate.**

Eddie gets one of the squares open and pops it in his mouth. "There. Happy now?" he says around the melting, rich sweetness.

 **Mmmmmore**. 

Still swallowing, Eddie unwraps a second square. He goes to take a bite and nearly loses a finger when instead of his own lips and teeth, Venom's mouth has emerged from Eddie's to nab his own bite of chocolate. 

The sound Eddie makes attracts attention from several people in the street, but by the time anyone looks at them, Venom has disappeared with his chocolate, so Eddie just looks like a run-of-the-mill guy shouting in the street, not a parasite-infested—

**I'm not a parasite.**

"I know, I know. Sorry."

**That thing you called me in the market. That doesn't mean parasite, does it?**

Eddie runs his memory back. "What did I call you?"

**Hon. You sounded like when you call me babe, but it's not a word I recognized.**

He does it because it makes his friend happy, and Eddie likes to make Venom happy, but it still makes Eddie blush that he has pet names for a shape-shifting, many-fanged alien. "It's short for honey."

**Like bees make?**

"It means the same as babe."

**Okay, then. You may call me that.**

Eddie laughs and unwraps another square of chocolate.

**

Venom lets Eddie eat his sandwich in peace, but when Eddie gets up to throw away the packaging, Venom says, **Why didn't you get salami? We like salami.** And then before Eddie can even take a breath to answer, **Why does salami make you all red? Is it the salt? Do I need to watch your blood pressure?**

"Oh my god." 

**I do not fit the parameters of a god as you have led me to understand the concept. I am your other.**

That makes Eddie feel even more flushed, but this time with an embarrassed pleasure he's not gonna look too closely at. He's pretty sure Venom is kidding. About the god part, anyway. He might actually mean it about the other thing. 

**I do mean it. I am your other, you are my other. We are Venom.**

"Yeah," Eddie says, voice a little wobbly. 

**So, why didn't we get salami?**

"Mrs. Chen doesn't have a deli. Just whatever pre-made sandwiches come in." Eddie can talk lunch meats and not think about his dick. Absolutely. No problem.

 **Oh?** Venom sounds curious and not just a little excited. **Salami is also what drools in the night the way honey is also another word for babe?**

Or not. 

**Human food language is complicated, Eddie.**

"Can we not talk about this?" 

**Your heart rate is rising. Also your salami.**

"I hate you so much."

Venom's face materializes out of Eddie's shoulder and looks at him. Jesus that's a lot of teeth. 

**No. I am your babe.**

"And my other. I know. But you and my salami are ganging up on me."

In a graceful but disturbing ripple, Venom's face flows backwards so he's facing outwards instead of back at Eddie, and he cranes his—neck is as good a word as any—to look down at Eddie's crotch. A tendril creeps down Eddie's chest and wriggles under the waistband of his jeans. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

**Checking.**

"Checking what?" That's. Okay, he's watched as much of that weird animated porn as the next guy, and a tentacle is… very flexible. And his dick would like him to shut the fuck up and let Venom get on with this. Whatever this is. 

**You tasted different—good—when you were drooling last night. I liked it. Want to see if I can make you taste that way again.**

Eddie's dick cringes at that. "Hey! I thought you weren't going to snack on me anymore. Even if you can fix it after."

Venom's face whips back around, and his eyes, still shimmering white patches like always, manage to look concerned. **Not that kind of tasting, Eddie. I will not hurt you. Never hurt you.** Venom's tongue comes out and he laps at the sweat popping up between Eddie's collar bones. **This kind of tasting.**

Eddie's dick can't help noticing—not for the first time, but whatever—that Venom's tongue is also very flexible. 

**Yes! I will taste you there. Smells good.**

The next thing Eddie knows, there are tendrils removing his jeans and Venom's controlling his limbs, and he's half stumbling, half falling onto the sofa. "Wait. Wait!" 

Venom stops, face hovering over Eddie's own, tendrils wrapped around one arm, the back of his neck, a pile of denim, and Eddie's left ankle. 

**What.**

"We can't just— You. That's—" Eddie has no idea how to articulate his alarm. Possibly because his body isn't all that interested in it getting articulated. 

**I can help you feel good. That makes me feel good. Like when we eat heads. But no need to find bad people first.**

It's a compelling argument. Somehow. Maybe helped along by the soft stroking along his hairline and up the side of his leg. 

**Let's go home** , Venom says, shocking Eddie out of his reverie. 

"I—What?" 

**That is what you say when you want to feel good with Anne.**

Isn't that a kick in the face. He's missed Annie less since Venom arrived—since he's met Dan, seen that she's with someone who's not only good to her but to the people in her life—but that doesn't mean he's happy about losing her. 

**We can feel good, too, Eddie. Anne is our friend, but you are my other.**

Deciding not to think any more about that, Eddie says, "We're already home." 

The stroking on the back of his neck starts up again. **So I can taste you.**

"Isn't this a little weird?" Eddie's not sure why he thinks the bullet-proof, shape-shifting, alien goo who's taken up residence in his body might have valid opinions on what passes for _weird_ but he feels like maybe someone should be asking these questions. 

**I can slap your salami?**

That makes Eddie shudder in a way that's maybe not entirely horror. But he's learned the hard way that the kinky shit is better left to second and subsequent hookups. Jesus fuck why is he thinking about hooking up with his paras— Symbiote. "No slapping," he hastens to say before Venom gets too comfy with the idea. 

**Taste you, Eddie.**

The face hovering over his has so many teeth. _So many teeth._ But Venom's tongue snakes out of his mouth and he licks Eddie's neck up to his jaw, the tip teasing along the sensitive skin under the bone, circling where moments before a tendril had been caressing him. _Fuck._

 **We like that spot.**

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, figuring it doesn't matter if this is weird. He fucked a cantaloupe once after reading an article in Cosmo. That was weird. And not totally unfun, though he's grateful to this day he wore a condom. "Hey, are we gonna need condoms? Because I'm not sure I have any."

He can feel Venom searching through his mind, a cool, slithery, fluttery feeling, inquisitive and impatient. 

"A rubber. A—" Eddie pictures rolling on a condom, sharing the image with his—what did V call it?—his other. "Prevents diseases. And preg— Christ. I can't get you pregnant, can I?"

**Your cells are my cells, Eddie. There are no diseases. And that is not how we spawn.**

Spawn. Jesus. Eddie's gonna put a pin in that. Because Venom is stroking his legs and his hips and sending exploratory shoots up under his shirt like he's trying to get it off without Eddie noticing. "I can—" god that feels good. "I can tell what you're doing. I'll take it off." He goes to pull his shirt over his head, but shimmering black hands wrap around his wrists and hold them above his head. Eddie makes a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan. His shirt is up under his armpits and that very flexible tongue is licking both his nipples at once. 

The tendrils around his hips wrap around his waist, knead and squeeze at his ass, but nothing is touching his dick. "Veeeee," he says. Okay, maybe whines a little. "I thought you were gonna taste me—" he thrusts his hips up. "There."

**Impatient.**

Eddie almost says something about the pot calling the kettle black, but there's no way he's explaining that idiom right now. Not when he's being half lifted off the sofa and half held down onto it, his symbiote all around him. Different than all the times before. This isn't a mask he's wearing, or a bullet-proof suit. This isn't a parasite that can make him climb trees or send him scaling a forty-story building in the time it takes to think, _Oh, fuck_. This is Venom holding him, wrapped around him like Anne might have. Or Arthur. Or any of his other lovers. Only more.

**Always more, Eddie.**

Yeah, this is gonna be way more fun than masturbating.

Venom does a thing that gets Eddie's shirt the rest of the way off without letting go of his wrists. Eddie isn't sure if his shirt survived the experience, but he doesn't really care. His legs are wrapped in warm, pulsating tendrils, alternating squeezing and stroking his thighs, the grooves of his hips, the swell of his ass. Venom's fingers are laced through his, he's cupping the back of Eddie's head, teasing along his throat and collarbones, licking patterns down his chest and across his ribs. 

"How—" his voice is barely there. "How do you know? What feels—"

**You showed me your dream.**

Eddie doesn't even remember his dream. He's assuming they're talking about whatever led to last night's sticky sheets. 

Venom's tongue flicks at his nipples again then moves up his throat and over his chin to tease at his lips. 

**You wanted me to kiss you again.**

It can't be denied that Eddie's thought about that once or twice since the night in the woods. Not that he could deny it anyway, because Venom's tongue is in his mouth now, and he's arching up and moaning and sucking on it eagerly. All Eddie's concerns about teeth seem to have dissipated in the rush of blood to his groin. 

Well. Most of them. And the ones that are left are only adding to the desperate hungry squirming he's doing in Venom's hold. 

**Mmmmm.** The voice rumbles in Eddie's chest. **You like that.**

 _Yes_ , Eddie thinks loud and clear, the way he's been practicing so he doesn't attract too much attention talking to his symbiote in public. He also nods and whimpers the way he would with a cock in his throat, tugging a little against the part of Venom cradling his head, wondering if his dream showed V how much he likes having his hair pulled. There's a sharp tug on his scalp, tipping his head back, and fuuuuck, he could come just from this maybe, before Venom even has a chance to touch his dick. 

He's barely had the thought when a tendril wraps up to tug hard at his balls, squeeze the base of his cock. A shiver of heat and a lance of perfect pain shoot through his belly, and he makes a broken choked sound. Venom stops tonguefucking his mouth and looks at him. He's not sure how eyes like that can look smug, but they sure can.

"Are you s—" Eddie gasps in a ragged breath. "Are you sure you haven't been watching porn?"

**You sleep too much. I have watched all the videos on your computer.**

Of course he has. "Computers are private," he says unthinkingly, before Annie and irony and the pot and kettle metaphor come crashing back into his mind. 

**We are Venom.**

That too. The guy lives inside his brain. Privacy is not so much a thing. 

**I like the one of the land dogs swimming with the ocean dogs, but that does not apply to this situation.**

It takes a second to parse that, and then Eddie remembers the video he took of a couple of golden retrievers swimming with sea otters in Monterey Bay. 

**There is one where a man ties a rope around the other man's—** the tendril around his balls tightens again and gives another little pull. **We do not need rope. This is better.**

Mmm hmm. Yep. Definitely better. Christ. Eddie sucks in a breath and tugs his hips against the pressure in his balls. Slowly, watching Eddie the whole time, Venom tugs back, stretching Eddie's sac until he forces a sharp grunt from Eddie's throat. So much for leaving the kink for next time. Venom's inside his _head_ and no way is Eddie putting a stop to this. 

**You are drooling again. Also with your mouth.**

"Yeah. I— fuck, babe, do that again."

A wave of pleasure that's not his own rushes through Eddie's chest. Apparently V has his own kinks, and " _babe_ " plays right into them. 

Venom licks from the base of Eddie's prick to the point of his chin, leaving a trail of slick which he traces with one claw-tipped finger. Eddie believes—he really does—that his other won't hurt him, but it still sends a shudder down his spine and makes his dick jerk as a squirt of adrenalin hits his bloodstream. A trickle of black flows from the tendril around his balls up his dick, and before he can take a breath, his junk is wrapped in a tight black sheath, balls snug to his shaft, like he's been vacuumed into latex. 

He's pretty sure he hasn't got any mummy play vids on his laptop, since that's never been his thing, so apparently his symbiote has kinks beyond pet names. Which he can think about later, because Venom's squeezing him in rippling waves, pulling his junk up and out of the way so he can get his tongue to Eddie's hole. Which is— " _Fuuuuuuuuuuuck_ ". 

And Venom does. 

His tongue. Is. This must be what Eddie was dreaming about, and he hopes to whatever gods might be out there that he never dreams of anything else ever again, because holy _hell_. Hot, slick, pushing, pulsing, teasing, probing, swelling, stroking, and Eddie's hips jerk and jump to make up for the fact that Venom's grip on his balls and dick keep him from coming. The sounds coming out of his mouth are desperate wordless pleas for more, even as his fingers grip any part of Venom he can reach, trying to slow him down, get a chance to take just one breath. 

**This feels good, Eddie. We like it.**

The tiny part of Eddie's brain that doesn't feel like it's spun out into pleasure and outer space wants to say something about it being rude to talk with your mouth full, but that part is busy reminding him to work on getting air to his lungs, so he just whimpers in agreement. 

**Bigger?**

The pressure in his ass grows, making the stretch, the feel of fullness, of being possessed and owned and taken, better, then better again. " _Aaagggggnnnnhhhhhh_ " Eddie says, a rough groan from deep in his belly. Venom thrusts, a constant friction on Eddie's prostate, a driving rhythm his hips answer without a thought. The sheath on his dick seems to vibrate, even as it squeezes and ripples, there are arms around his chest, hands on his legs holding him open to whatever Venom wants to do to him, more hands in his hair and on his hips. It should be too much sensation—it _is_ too much—but Eddie's body takes it, welcomes it, and an orgasm like he's never seen before starts to gather in his gut, sending tendrils like the ones Venom's got moving all over him up his spine and down into his ass. 

**We like it, Eddie. We like you. We are glad we stayed.**

Eddie likes it too. Tears prick at his eyes as he's washed with the memory of falling from that damn space ship, salt water closing around him, Venom gone. 

**We are Venom** , his other says, and with those words Eddie comes, turns inside out, outside in, doesn't know which way is up. 

**

They spend the rest of the day in bed, and most of the next day too, and by the time Eddie's showered off the layers of sweat and spit and spunk, convinced Venom he needs to finish the article he's supposed to have to the editor by morning, it doesn't seem weird anymore that he's having sex with the alien who shares his body. 

Until a week or so later, when they're walking home from dinner with Anne and Dan, and Eddie swings into Mrs. Chen's to pick up a six-pack and some chocolate. 

"Eddie!" Mrs. C says, seemingly delighted to see him. "How have you been?" 

"Good. Good. You? How's business?"

She starts to tell him about how much better things are going now she's not paying protection money anymore. Eddie's listening, pleased things are going so well for her, so it takes him a second to notice the tickle on the small of his back isn't the tag from his jeans. A shiver flutters up his spine as a tendril snakes down the crack of his ass. 

_No_ , he says in his head— he hopes—trying to sound firm. _Not here_. 

**We like it. Feels good. We don't care about profit margins.**

The tendril strokes his hole, and Eddie tries not to look obvious as he clenches his cheeks. Sure. 'Cause that's going to stop a shape shifter. _We care about Mrs. Chen, though_. 

**Okay.** Venom sounds doubtful, and doesn't stop the stroking, probing tendril. Eddie's not gonna be able to keep it together. 

"Shit," he says, looking at the strings tied around his wrist like one of them is a watch. "We're late. Gotta go."

"We?" Mrs. Chen asks, but Eddie pretends not to hear her and drops the beer and candy bar on the counter. 

The movement gives Venom a chance to swap tendril for tongue and Eddie has to muffle a squeak at the slippery pressure. Mrs. Chen looks at him with concern. 

"It's good. I'm good," Eddie tries to reassure her. 

**Yes. Good.** Venom breeches the ring of muscle at Eddie's hole, stretching up to lick his prostate with pointed tongue. 

Eddie's worn a butt plug. Hell, he even wore one to a restaurant for date night with Annie once and managed to order with her hand cupping his balls without the waiter noticing a thing. He can do this. "Thanks, Mrs. C," he half yelps, dropping a twenty on the counter. Before she can notice his dick trying to escape its denim cage, he turns and scuttles to the door. "Keep the change!"

As soon as they're in the street, Venom stops teasing him, sinking back under the skin over his sacrum, protruding from the fingers wrapped around the candy bar, pinching and tugging at the wrapper. 

"Oh my god," Eddie bellows, taking a breath and finishing in his head when people turn to stare. _Did you just rim me in the market in an effort to get to the chocolate faster?_

**It worked** , Venom says, like that's the only point, slipping back undercover as he just takes over Eddie's arm and raises the chocolate to his mouth. 

"You could have just asked."

 **My way was more fun**. 

Eddie's chewing way too big a bite of candy, so is forced to answer in his head, which he should have been doing anyway. _Yes, but there's a time and a place for fun, and the market isn't it._

 **Sorry.** Venom actually sounds contrite. **Can we go home, then?**

"Let's go home, babe" Eddie agrees, trying not to grin too stupidly at his other. 

 


End file.
